


Come fly with me

by Dunderklumpen



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunderklumpen/pseuds/Dunderklumpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike hates to fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come fly with me

**Author's Note:**

> My first try to write them in English...
> 
> Written for the suits_meme for the prompt "Mike scared of flight".
> 
> Beta: Thanks to darkhorse_99 who was a sweetheart and looked it over.

The first thing he does is order a vodka and tomato juice.

Harvey gives him a curious look but doesn’t say anything. Instead he takes out the briefs and starts to read.

Mike doesn’t care. The only thing he knows right now is that he’s sitting in a fucking death trap and Harvey’s blocking his escape route. His eyes dart over the chair in front of him and for a fleeting moment he thinks about how much space he actually has. First class isn’t that bad, huh?

Mike tries to swallow, but his mouth is sandpaper. Even his spit preferred to flee this goddamn situation. He coughs and breathes in.

He has to do something… anything!

Where the fuck is his drink?

As if the stewardess could read his mind, she appears at his side.

“Your drinks, sir.”

She hands him two glasses which are way too small. Mike gulps down the vodka in one go and points to the empty paper cup.

“Another one, please.”

The stewardess nods surprised but doesn’t comment. After all: The customer is king.

With nervous fingers Mike searches for the pills in his shirt pocket. He can’t find them immediately and another round of panic rises. Hastily he tries the other pocket and feels relief when his fingertips brush over the medication. He takes them out.

Their white colour seems even brighter next to the red juice.

He can do this! He can totally do this! It’s only a 3 hours flight and the client is important. He just has to take the pills, wash them down with another vodka, then the tomato juice for his conscience - and voilá - he will be out until they land. Easy as pie…

The stewardess brings him another glass of vodka and he smiles in an attempt to show her that he’s not a crazy alcoholic who will make her live a living hell for the next 3 hours.

Instead he takes the pills, ready to forget the steady feeling of panic in his body since he stepped into the plane.

His hand has almost reached his mouth when Harvey’s fingers sink into his arm.

“Jesus, Harvey!” Mike cries out far too loudly. He honestly had forgotten about his boss in the seat to his right.

Harvey presses gently down Mike’s arm.

“Since when?”

“What?” Mike stares at him in complete confusion.

“Since when are you afraid of flying?”

Mike needs a few seconds to catch up with the question.

“Um,” he tries to free himself from Harvey’s grip. “Since always.”

Mike’s squirming seems to help because Harvey lets go of his arm.

“I don’t think that taking medication is the best solution for your problem.”

He bends over him and adds, “and neither is this.” He takes Mike’s vodka.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“You’ll need a clear head when we land.” Harvey explains and holds the glass so far away that his associate can’t reach it. “I can’t waste my time with you on drugs and alcohol when I need you sharp as a knife at the meeting.”

Mike sighs and closes his eyes.

‘Damn!’ he thinks and tries to come up with a reason which makes Harvey give him back his pills. But he can’t think straight and Harvey Specter is the best lawyer he knows. He has already lost his case.

And now?

Before he can continue his argument, the stewardess shows up.

Great! There goes his vodka.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he drinks the tomato juice. He has no clue why people always order them on flights. Maybe they think it’s food – like a tomato soup…

The vibration of the engine snaps him out of his thoughts. Automatically he tries to free himself from his belt. But before he can open it, he feels Harvey’s hand on his.

It’s enough of a surprise to make him stop. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t run from a starting plane.

“Look at me!” He hears Harvey’s voice but has no idea what he says. He feels the trembling under his feet and stares out of the window to see a moving landscape.

“Look at me!” Harvey’s words make their way slowly through the fog in his mind.

“Mike, look – at – me!”

The authority in the voice makes him turn his head. His eyes are glazed over and fear is written all over his face.

“You’re safe.” Harvey continues, “Nothing can happen.”

Mike still watches Harvey and tries to relax. But the noise in the plane rises and the speed presses him in his seat. Rationally Mike knows that it’s ridiculous to be afraid but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s scared out of his mind.

“Mike,” Harvey’s fingers snap in front of his eyes.

“Yeah?” He is able to answer.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Mike taxes his brain but he can’t remember.

Harvey sighs. “You’re safe,” he repeats and looks for recognition in his associate’s face, something that shows him that he has heard him.

“You’re completely safe. Nothing can happen.”

The plane lifts off and Mike presses his eyelids so hard together that he starts to see white and yellow dots. His whole body is tense and it’s all he can do not to jump out of his seat.

His blood pulses in his ears, a constant whoosh synchronized with the plane’s engines.

He has no idea how long he sits like that. It feels like forever.

“Mike?”

Mike hears his name and opens his eyes. He blinks into the light, willing to make the black spots go away.

“I would appreciate my hand in one piece.” Harvey says drily.

Mike stares at the hand in his lap. He must have taken it when they had started. Red marks from Mike’s cramped fingers are visible.

“I’m sorry.” Mike says and loosens his grip.

Harvey smiles but doesn’t move his hand.

“How do you feel?” he asks instead.

Mike could have sworn he heard an underlying tone of worry. On the other hand he already had one vodka.

“Ok, I guess.”

“Will you be all right?”

Mike looks around, avoiding the small window to his left.

“Until we land.”

Harvey nods slightly and presses the kid’s fingers in something close to comfort.

“Try to sleep,” he orders and moves away his hand.

Mike swallows. “A vodka might help,” he starts.

Harvey gives him a look Donna would have been proud of and presses the button for the stewardess.

Five minutes later Mike gets warm milk with honey.


End file.
